


To Live In Hearts

by Anonymous



Category: As the World Turns
Genre: Amnesia, Future Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-01
Updated: 2012-01-01
Packaged: 2017-11-21 16:27:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/599791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two years after the end of the series Reid suffers an accident and loses something important.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Live In Hearts

**Author's Note:**

> You had asked for something set earlier on in their relationship, and I tend to write more towards the end of the series or post-series and was having trouble coming up with an idea for a story set earlier on (not at all your fault, of course! It was my own writer's block), so I tried to sort of combine the time periods. I hope this works for you!
> 
> Also, my medical knowledge (particularly my knowledge of neurology) is a bit limited, but this is a soap opera, so we'll call it soap opera medicine.
> 
> Also, also, I went with a "Train? What train?" scenario here.

His head is foggy, thrumming a little with the niggling edges of a headache. There are soft noises – muffled, maybe, but quiet in any case, like something just out of his reach. It seems to take ages to get his eyes open, and when he does the first thing he sees is blond hair, and then wide, worried eyes. Brown eyes. Or maybe hazel. He can’t really tell, his own eyes blurry and unfocused.

 _Luke_ , he thinks, and promptly falls back asleep.

-

“Reid?” Luke’s heart skips a beat or twelve as he watches Reid’s eyes flutter back closed. “Reid,” he prompts again, grasping at Reid’s shoulder to give it a gentle shake. “Reid!” he says a little louder, a little more desperate. It’s been days since Reid’s eyes opened all on their own, and Luke is thrilled to see them again and terrified all at once.

“Luke?” comes Bob’s voice from the doorway, but Luke doesn’t take his eyes off Reid’s face to look over at him.

“He – he woke up,” Luke tells Bob as he sweeps a hand over Reid’s cheek. “It was just for a moment, but he opened his eyes. He looked right at me.”

“Okay,” Bob says calmly, patting Luke on the back. It feels a bit placating, like maybe he’s not sure he believes Luke, which kind of makes Luke want to shake him off. “I’ll go have Dr. Andrews paged.”

Reid’s going to be annoyed when he hears it’s been Andrews as his primary neurologist these past few days, but several of the principle staff are off for the holidays, and better a veteran like Dr. Andrews than one of the residents. Luke is even kind of looking forward to hearing Reid rant with overblown offense about Andrews’ incompetence – he’s said it more than once before, that he’d rather slice open his own brain than let Andrews anywhere near him with a scalpel, despite the fact that Reid himself okayed Andrews being hired.

Reid just has to wake up and say it all. But Luke’s sure that he will. He will. He is already, or was a few moments ago.

“I heard our patient may be coming around,” Dr. Andrews says as he enters the hospital room, and Luke looks up to see Bob and resident whose name Luke doesn’t remember trail in after him. Andrews’ voice is light, pleasant, the sort of faux cheer that Reid hates and always refuses to employ when speaking with patients or their families. Luke doesn’t much care either way; he just wants Reid’s eyes to open again.

“Let’s see what we have here,” Dr. Andrews says as he leans over Reid with his penlight and Luke steps back to watch him spend endless moments prodding at Reid until, almost as suddenly as before, Reid opens his eyes once more. 

And groans. Luke’s heart leaps to his throat.

“Reid!” he gasps out involuntarily, and Bob takes him gently by the hand. They watch Reid’s eyes scan over the room, bleary and sluggish, as he nods slowly at each of Dr. Andrews’ questions. Reid’s eyes come to rest on Luke, and Luke feels a smile beam out of him in return. Reid’s brow creases. He doesn’t smile back. Luke doesn’t really care.

“Why don’t we go get some coffee?” Bob says to him, and he tugs a bit to urge Luke out of the room. “Give the doctors some space for a few minutes to take a look at Reid.”

“Right, yeah, sure,” Luke says, and he really doesn’t care as long as Reid is up and awake and okay.

When they return twenty minutes later, Reid is sitting up a bit, propped up by pillows, and Luke breathes a happy sigh as he catches Reid speaking, “…don’t remember any of it. A car accident? Whose fault was it?” He stops speaking when he spots Luke.

“Hi,” Luke grins as he heads for the bedside, prepared to shove the unnamed resident over if need be.

Reid frowns a bit, then winces a bit with the motion and brings a hand to his head, resting over the bandages that cover his hairline.

“You’re back,” he says, and it comes out a little weird, like _**you’re** back_ rather than _you’re **back**_ or _you’re back!_ or, well, whatever, Luke doesn’t really care. He gets close enough to slip his hand into Reid’s and he smiles at his boyfriend as he runs his thumb over Reid’s knuckles, until.

Until Reid pulls his hand out of Luke’s grasp and looks from Luke’s face to Luke’s hand and back to Luke’s face with an expression of measured disgust in his eyes.

“Reid…” Luke starts with a ghost of a laugh behind the word. He’s not really sure what to make of this. Reid’s never been embarrassed or awkward about public displays of affection and is quick enough to dole out some choice words to anyone who dares comment on two men holding hands in public. A niggling feeling tugs at the pit of Luke’s stomach, though he’s not quite sure what it is. “Um,” Luke begins again. “Of course I’m back.” He smiles, waiting for Reid to return it, or at least roll his eyes or something.

Reid’s frown deepens. “Let me amend that,” Reid says, and it comes out a bit more slowly than it would normally, but it’s almost comforting to hear the condescending lecture-y tone from him. “ _Why_ are you _here_?” And there’s no mistaking the emphasis in his words now.

-

Christ, this kid is annoying, and Reid just wants him gone. Yesterday. And yet, the Snyder kid – Grimaldi, whatever - just keeps standing there gaping, mouth open like he’s ready to speak but has totally forgotten how.

“Where else would I be?” Snyder says, reaching again for Reid’s hand. Reid yanks it out of his reach.

“ _Anywhere_ else? Now, please.”

“But – but you’re my – ”

“Hostage? Kidnap victim?” Reid interrupts to suggest helpfully. “Wrongful imprisonment lawsuit?”

“Boyfriend.”

“…’s doctor?” Reid finishes for him, but he’s got a sinking feeling that something is really, really off here.

Snyder stares at him for a long moment. Reid looks up at the other doctors still in the room, at Dr. Bob, all of them looking at him with the same expressions you’d use to tell a family “there were some complications with the surgery…”

“Boyfriend,” Snyder repeats, and reaches to grab Reid’s hand forcefully. He squeezes tighter when Reid tries to pull away.

Reid can’t really think of what to say to that for a while, so he glares instead for a few minutes before settling on, “You’re crazy.”

Snyder opens his mouth to speak again, and Reid is all set to cut off whatever he’s going to say, but his doctor beats them both to it.

“Er, how about you answer a few more questions for me, Dr. Oliver?”

Reid shoots a glare at Snyder, willing him to leave the damn room already because, christsakes, Reid does not want that little twerp of a budinski of a _jerk_ privy to Reid’s medical issues. Talk about leverage. But Snyder doesn’t budge, so Reid gives a loud sigh and turns back to the doctor. Andrews. Dr. Andrews. He’d mentioned his name a few minutes ago and it panics Reid just a bit that he has to read the guy’s nametag to remember it.

“Fire away, doctor,” he says as he wrenches his hand from Snyder’s grasp once more. Nutjob.

“Can you tell me who the president of the United States currently is, Dr. Oliver?” Andrews asks in this sickeningly cheerful tone that makes Reid want to feign gagging sounds.

“Barak Obama,” he answers, and sees Snyder grin like a loon in response. 

Actually, more than crazy, Snyder looks relieved. Reid’s not sure what to make of that.

“Good, good,” Andrews replies, and looks down to scribble something on his clipboard. Reid wonders if it’s as annoying when he does the same thing with patients. “And what is your current address?” Andrews continues without looking up from his clipboard.

“Present address is 724 Pinewood Lane, Oakhell,” Reid rattles off. “Permanent address is 87 North Field Street, Dallas.”

The room is silent.

“Dallas,” Snyder says finally. Reid doesn’t look at him. “Dallas… Texas?”

“Do you know another one?” Reid turns to glare at the kid. He ignores the worried look Snyder is suddenly sporting.

“Reid,” Andrews calls his attention. It’s the first time Andrews has called Reid by his first name, and now, if Reid is quite honest with himself, he’s getting a little bit worried himself. He turns back to Dr. Andrews.

“Can you tell me what year it is?” Andrews asks.

Reid swallows heavily. “2010.”

He can hear Snyder’s breathing pick up speed. His own heart starts beating a little faster, and for a moment he almost wishes that he was still holding Luke’s hand.

Snyder. Snyder’s hand. He’s not “Luke” to Reid; Reid barely knows him. 

Maybe.

…Or maybe. They’re a couple?

He shakes his head; the thought is completely absurd. They can’t stand each other. Luke blackmailed him in order to lure him to this one pony town and got him arrested to trap him here and there’s just no way, no _way_ …

“It’s not 2010 is it?” Reid asks finally, biting the bullet while everyone else stands around like morons looking uncomfortable.

“No,” Snyder says softly. “It’s not.”

-

“He thinks it’s two years ago,” Luke sighs into the phone. “More – like, two and a half. Or something. I’m not sure how much time he’s lost exactly.”

 _“But he remembers you,”_ Noah’s familiar voice comes over through the other end, low and soothing, trying to reassure even as Luke clutches a hand in his own hair and paces the length of his living room floor. His and Reid’s living room.

“He remembers hating me,” Luke replies. “He remembers you and me being together and me and him doing nothing but arguing.”

_“To be fair, you guys still argue.”_

“Yeah, but not like that,” Luke says as he collapses into Reid’s favorite chair. “Not like when we first met, like we actually don’t like each other. It’s, y’know, playful arguing.”

_“Whatever, man,”_ Noah laughs. _“Whatever you have to tell yourselves.”_

Two years ago that would have raised Luke’s hackles. A year ago it would’ve made him feel uncomfortable and at a loss of how to reply. Today it just raises a laugh of his own and he smiles despite himself.

“You know, all things considered, I’m glad… well, I’m glad we’re at this place,” he tells Noah. “You and me. That we can be happy for each other.”

 _“I’ll always be happy for you, Luke,”_ Noah says easily, honestly. 

“I know,” Luke replies. He leans down to rest his forehead on his hand. “He’ll get his memory back, right?”

Noah replies immediately, _“Of course he will,”_ even though they both know there’s no guarantee of that. 

They’re both quiet for a long stretch, maybe thinking the same thing, when Noah says, _“Luke… even if he doesn’t,”_ and Luke’s heart sinks a bit because he doesn’t actually want to hear those words right now despite the fact that they’ve been circling around the back of his mind for the past two days since Reid woke up.

_“Even if he doesn’t remember the past couple years,”_ Noah repeats. Luke clenches a fist against his knee. _“He fell in love with you once. It could happen again.”_ He pauses. Then, more firmly, _“It’ll happen again.”_

“Yeah,” Luke says, his voice sounding distant even to his own ears. 

_“C’mon, Luke. You always come through these things okay. You’d never let a little thing like brain damage and memory loss stand between you and what you want.”_

“Right.” Luke’s still not really feeling it. He watches the snow outside as the storm they’ve been forecasting for weeks begins to come down. It’s colder in the house suddenly than it has been in months.

 _“Especially not around the holidays,”_ Noah continues like he’s got something to prove.

Luke glances up to look at the photo hanging on the wall across from him, an eight-by-ten framed picture of he and Reid from last Christmas, sitting in the snow with their heads pressed close together, Luke holding a sprig of mistletoe up over their heads. Reid was outwardly aghast when Luke hung the photo up right there in the middle of the wall, but Luke's caught him smiling softly at it now and then as he walked by.

He breathes out a determined sigh and gets up from his chair. “You’re right,” he tells Noah, more confident now.

 _“Of course I’m right,”_ Noah replies, and Luke can hear the smile in his voice. _“So go get him.”_

-

“Go away,” Reid tells the brat without looking up from his pudding cup. 

“Nope,” Snyder replies sunnily as he strides into the room. Reid swallows his pudding and does his best to glower up at the kid. 

Snyder doesn’t take the hint. He’s wearing a smile and a hat with bobble on top and Reid determinedly does not let his eyes linger on the blush of red on the jerk’s cheeks.

“It’s freezing out there!” Snyder says, blowing into his hands as if to demonstrate the point.

“Did you come all the way down here just to give me a weather update, Mr. Snyder?” Reid puts on his most contemptuously pleasant tone.

“Nope,” Snyder replies, yanking his gloves off and dumping his coat onto a chair before he comes over and sits right down on the side of Reid’s bed. Jerk. “Call me Luke.”

“No.”

“Reid – ”

“That’s Dr. Oliver.”

“ _Reid_ ,” Luke – and, great, Reid’s already doing it. Dammit. Luke says his name again, pointedly, and drops a bag onto Reid’s lap. “I love you,” Luke says.

“Ugh,” Reid replies. 

“I do,” Luke insists. “And you love me.”

“Oh for crying out loud,” Reid groans and slouches back into his pillows. “Last _I_ remember you were merely sociopathic, _completely_ uncaring about anyone else but yourself and what you want. Now you’re delusional as well, huh?”

“I brought you something,” Luke replies, skipping right over Reid’s words. “Something to remind you of what you’re missing.”

“I’m not missing anything,” Reid insists. “Except my pants. And that’s the only reason I’m still sitting here listening to you.”

And yeah, Reid could kick him out of the room. He could call for a nurse, or security, or an easily directed intern. But Luke does smell pretty good – familiar, though Reid can’t place the scent. And all of this unasked for closeness is just adding to the lawsuit Reid has been putting together in his head for weeks. Or maybe years, depending on who you ask. He’s still wrapping his head around the whole two years lost thing.

“I could bring you some pants if you want,” Luke replies with that irritating grin of his. “All of your clothes are back at our place.”

That takes Reid a moment. 

“… _Our_ place?”

“We moved into it last year,” Luke tells him. Reid feels a bit nauseous. “You wanted to paint the kitchen blue – like, dark blue, you really have terrible decorating sense, and I wanted it this sort of gray color which in retrospect was a little, y’know, _blah_ for a kitchen, so we ended up painting most of it this sort of light green color that my sister picked out, except for this one spot in the corner that has our names painted in blue and in gray.”

Reid gapes at him. “That all sounds frankly disgusting.”

Luke just laughs at him, the jerk. “I’m pretty sure it’s your favorite room in the house. Though not because of the paintjob. Anywhere with a blender and a microwave would probably be your favorite spot in the house. Your eating habits are still terrible."

“My eating habits are just _fine_ , Mr. Snyder.” He takes a bite of his pudding to demonstrate.

“You shovel food in your mouth so fast I don’t think you even taste it,” Luke shoots back. “Which, come to think of it, is probably how you’re able to east so much gross stuff.”

“Look,” Reid stares right at him, unfazed by the smile. Mostly. “If you’re trying to convince me of our… grand, epic, cosmic love,” he makes a sweeping motion through the air with his hand, “you’re doing a pretty terrible job so far.”

“I’ve got more,” Luke replies, opening up the bag to pull out a laptop computer.

“More what?”

“I’m _showing_ you, just relax a moment.”

“Relax,” Reid deadpans. “You’re sitting here trying to convince me that I’ve been suffering from Stockholm Syndrome for the past two years and – and… fallen in _love_ \- ” the word feels distasteful on his tongue “ – with the bratty asshole who kidnapped me and brought me to this gaping hole of a town. I get knocked out and wake up to find that I’m _still stuck_ in the town that time forgot – and _there’s_ irony – two damn years after I should have been back to my real life… it’s like I really have fallen through the rabbit hole and into Neverland – ”

“Those are two different stories,” Luke cuts in. 

Reid glares at him as he continues, “like I’m stuck in a goddamn time loop here and you’re telling me to _relax_?”

Luke opens up the laptop as he nods and says, “Yes, I am. Now look.”

He turns the computer around to face Reid. 

Reid’s breath quickens. His forehead breaks out in a sweat.

There’s a picture of the two of them, he and Luke, there on the screen. They’re smiling at the camera. Reid has an arm around Luke’s shoulders. Luke is leaning into Reid. They look happy.

 _Reid himself_ looks happy.

It’s disconcerting, to say the least. To see a version of himself that he doesn’t recognize – his hands feel clammy.

“I’ve got more,” Luke says. His voice has gone soft, a bit of the brightness gone from his smile. “A whole slideshow, actually. Dr. Andrews said it would be okay. Do you – I mean, you wanna see them, right?”

He sounds vulnerable, hopeful enough that Reid can’t help nodding even though no, he really doesn’t want to see this.

Luke presses play to start the slideshow, and Reid glances at him, trying to size him up. Luke’s fingers are twitching, tapping against the blanket on the bed like maybe he wants to move closer. But he stays put where he is, and Reid looks back to the computer screen.

Reid and Luke sitting next to a pond together. Reid and Luke in front of a Christmas tree. Reid and Luke in the midst of a huge gathering at a dinner table. Reid and Luke carrying opposite ends of a couch. Reid and Luke in bed together, Luke’s arm outstretched to hold the camera, Reid not looking at the camera but at Luke, a sheet fallen low down around their waists. Reid’s stomach churns, but he can’t place what he’s feeling, whether it’s disgust or longing or jealousy or irritation or anger or what.

Reid and Luke in matching ugly, loud colored sweaters.

“That’s enough.” Reid snaps the computer shut. Luke’s brow furrows, looking nervous.

“There’s no way,” Reid shakes his head. “No _way_ that this is real.” He nods at the computer and folds his arms across his chest, shaking his head.

“I don’t understand,” Luke says, his mouth quirking up with a hint of a confused smile. He pulls the computer back towards himself.

“No goddamn way would I ever wear a matching goddamn sweater – not with you, not with _anyone_. Unless I’ve been suffering brain damage for the last _two years_ , there is _no_ way. Nope.” He shakes his head again.

“My mom knitted them,” Luke replies, and Reid raises an eyebrow. “Well, she knitted one and my grandma knitted the other. Actually, grandma probably knitted one and a half – my mom was still learning. You put it on for that one picture and they’ve been sitting in the back of the closet ever since.”

“Nope.”

Luke sighs, sounding frustrated. “Nope _what_?”

“No way.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“I’m not believing any of this.” Reid points a finger accusingly at Luke, and Luke cocks his head back, like he’s almost ready to laugh. “I don’t know why, but I know you’re making all of this up. What, to keep me around here? You got someone else you want me to operate on? Well it’s not going to happen.”

“You think I’m fabricating two years of a relationship?” Luke laughs, but it’s a hollow, sardonic one. “Why the hell would I do that?”

“Who knows?” Reid throws up his hands, exasperated. “Because you’re crazy. Why do you do anything?”

“And all the pictures I just showed you?”

“Easily doctored.”

“Reid.” Luke looks very unamused.

“Look, Mr. Snyder,” Reid sighs.

“Luke.” Luke says it a bit sadly and looks down at his own lap, his hair falling over his wounded hangdog expression, which Reid refuses to let affect him.

“Just go away,” Reid says. Luke swallows but Reid ignores it. “I need my rest. Head injury and all that.”

“I’m not going to give up that easily,” Luke assures him, raising his head to meet Reid’s eyes. God help him, Reid believes it, and for a moment he has a feeling in his chest, like… like something, something good maybe, but then it’s gone.

“Leave me alone, Mr. Snyder,” Reid tells him seriously.

They stare at each other for a long moment, almost challenging one another, though to what, Reid is unsure. 

“Okay,” Luke nods finally, and rises from his perch on Reid’s bed. For the barest of seconds Reid actually misses Luke's weight next to him. “Okay, but I’ll be back.” 

He stops short just as he’s tying a scarf around his neck and turns back to Reid. “… _Can_ I come back to see you?”

Reid stares at him for a long moment, jaw clenching a bit. There’s that feeling again in his chest, something tight and aching, like maybe he’s missing something, but he just can’t figure out what. For a moment, Luke is beautiful, his hands grasping the scarf and his eyes shining, looking at Reid like… like maybe he really does feel something…

He’ll blame that look for his nodding, and tries to ignore the fluttering feeling at Luke’s smile.

“Tomorrow?” Luke says, more telling than asking, but Reid nods his affirmative like it was a question anyway.

“Take this,” he tells Luke, nodding at the computer.

“Keep it,” Luke replies as he shrugs on his coat. “It’s yours. I’ll bring you some pants.”

And then he’s gone out the door and Reid is left staring at a computer that he doesn’t recognize filled with pictures he doesn’t remember.

-

“You’re still coming back to the farm on Christmas Eve though, right?”

Luke sighs and takes another sip of his cocoa, then slouches down to lean his forehead sideways onto his fisted hand.

“To be honest, I’m just not really sure I’m in the mood for it, Nat,” he tells his sister and tries to pretend he can’t see her face fall.

“But you have to come, Luke,” Natalie says, an edge of pleading to her voice. “And once you’re there, with everyone, you’ll feel better. Really.”

“I’m not sure I will,” Luke says glumly. He knows she’s probably right, and he’s being grumpy, but he’s been lonely for days now and his loneliness may very well be permanent, and he kind of wants to wallow in it for a while.

“Maybe Reid would come – ” Natalie starts but Luke cuts her off with a shake of his head.

“No, that’s definitely not going to happen.”

“But he’s getting out of the hospital, right? Have you even _asked_ him?” she presses.

Luke’s stomach churns as he looks back down at the floor. “He can’t stand me. Where he is right now, his memories, the guy he is again – I think he’d probably rather be on his own for the holidays. Or at least that’s what he’ll tell himself.” His chest hurts with the thought of it, the man that Reid was years ago who didn’t want to get attached to anyone, didn’t want to let anyone get attached to him.

“D’you think he, um. That he hates us too?”

Luke looks up at her quickly, alarmed, and opens his arms to beckon her over.

“Of _course_ not. He could never hate you guys. He might not remember right now, but he loves you guys - you and Ethan more so than Faith, but don't tell her I said that.”

Natalie leans into Luke’s hug and nods against his neck, laughing a little. “That goes for you too, y’know. But he loves you the most.”

-

“Well, shit,” Reid says when he looks down at Jacob. Jacob, who is looking up at him - _standing_ there and looking up at him and waving and now he’s saying “hi, Reid!” full, real words and everything.

“Reid,” Katie scolds lightly and picks Jacob up to bring him up to Reid’s eyeline. "You know he'll repeat everything he hears anyone - " she catches herself and presses her lips together tightly before backtracking. "I mean, no, of course you don't know that, I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking - "

“Sorry, sorry,” he mumbles absently, waving off her apology. “It’s just – man, look at him, he’s – he’s all grown.”

“Well not _quite_ , thank god,” Katie laughs, and she leads Reid back into the house. The house she shares with Chris Hughes. _That's_ going to take some getting used to.

“I had no idea he’d be… man,” Reid says again, at a loss.

“What did you think?” Katie asks, and he loves her for her no nonsense tone. “That Luke really was lying to you and the amnesia was all some grand conspiracy? That it was still 2010 and the whole hospital was just putting on a show for you to make you think you’d lost your memory?”

“That or to make me think I’d lost my mind,” Reid answers with all the faux sincerity he can muster for the moment. 

Katie turns to give him a measured look, says, “Reid,” with that soft, serious tinge, almost wistful, and he shrugs in reply.

“Of course not, I’m not an idiot,” he replies, serious this time, and shoves his hands into his pockets. “I know how memory loss can work.”

“But you’re still having some trouble with Luke.” She sits down on the couch with Jacob on her lap and stares at him with those eyes that he just can’t find it in himself to lie to.

“The last thing I remember of him before a week ago was telling him to stay away from me, and him badgering me until I wanted to throttle him.”

Katie smiles at that, surprising him.

“What the hell happened between us to change so much?” Reid asks, the first time he’s been able to bring voice to the question that’s been tugging at the back of his mind for days.

Katie shakes her head, smile playing at her face. “You got to know each other,” she answers with a shrug and, much to his annoyance, doesn’t say anything else.

He waits for a beat, then deadpans, “That’s it? That’s your big revelation?”

“Yup,” she smiles fully at him. “That’s it.”

“You’re really no help here at all.”

“Well I’m not going to detail your entire relationship for you, Reid,” she tells him. “You’re either going to have to figure it out for yourself or get to know him again.”

“Start over, you mean.” The idea does not sit well with him, especially considering he still doesn’t know that he actually even _likes_ Luke beyond his being aesthetically pleasing.

“Maybe.”

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s going to happen,” Reid grouses and shakes his head.

“Just think about it,” Katie tells him and reaches over to grasp his hand and give it a squeeze.

She, at least, Reid can be sure about, and that’s something. It's a start, maybe.

-

“Anyone ever tell you how annoying you are?” 

“Yes, _constantly_ ,” Luke smiles. “I think it’s one of my better qualities.”

Reid rolls his eyes and doesn’t step aside or invite Luke in. He’s been staying in Katie’s guestroom for two days now and it’s fine, it is, Luke is okay. Because he’s determined. He’s not going to give up.

“So what is it exactly that you want?” Reid folds his arms over his chest, as if he’s guarding something; maybe the doorway. Maybe something else.

“I want you to come by for Christmas,” Luke replies. Then amends, “Come home for Christmas.”

Reid narrows his eyes at Luke, considering – not considering the request (demand), but considering Luke himself. All brash, brazen, bold energy wafting off of him, like he’s just so _certain_ that Reid will agree.

“You really are the same spoiled kid I remember from a week ago or two years ago or whenever,” Reid tells him, and for some reason it makes Luke smile. “So used to getting exactly what you want.”

“I like to think of it as not giving up,” Luke replies with an easy sort of grace that tugs at something in Reid.

“Same thing.”

“Maybe. Just come home, just for an evening,” Luke says again, more request in his tone this time. He bites his lip for a moment and then adds, “Please, Reid.” His eyes have that look again, and Reid can feel himself faltering – inwardly, of course, because he’d never let anything slip to Luke.

The truth is, his feelings are pretty damn mixed up at the moment and he’s having trouble figuring out what’s real and what’s not and what’s a memory and what’s his head filling in gaps. There’s been something in his chest for days, like a phantom pain that he can’t get rid of, and it’s worse when Luke is around. It’s easier when he’s on his own; _he_ knows exactly who he is, even if everyone else tells him that he’s someone different now. 

Frankly, what it all comes down to is that he’s not sure he really wants to be the guy that wears stupid sweaters and takes goofy pictures with his boyfriend and has a whole life that's connected to other people.

“I don’t think so,” he finds himself saying, not really of his own volition. The words just come out, but he does nothing to stop them. Maybe he means them.

Luke’s expression falters and he doesn’t try to hide it. He smiles this sad, pitiful smile as his eyes go a bit glassy and he nods tightly.

“Sorry,” Reid adds as an afterthought, not really sure what to do with himself now in the face of Luke’s emotion.

“Sure, yeah,” Luke waves a hand, shaking his head. “It’s okay. I get it. Maybe I – maybe we can have lunch or coffee or something after the holidays. I’m sure you’ve got stuff to do right now.” 

Which is a total lie and they both know it – everyone Reid knows (or remembers, for that matter) is pretty much Luke and Katie and Katie’s gone until New Year’s. Reid won’t be able to go back to work for a while, which pisses him off to no end but there’s no getting around that one, and he knows that Luke knows he’ll just be sitting alone in Katie’s house on Christmas Eve (and Christmas Day), microwaving food and maybe watching _Home Alone_ or something.

But Reid lets them both get away with the lie and he watches Luke walk off back to his car without a backwards glance. Reid rubs at his chest, trying to will away the ache.

-

Luke stares at the fireplace instead of the book in his lap and tries not to think about last Christmas, when they decorated a tree here – their first in the new house – before going over to the farm to wake up the kids for Christmas morning presents. 

He glances over to the photo of he and Reid on the wall for a moment he just wants to smash it to pieces.

The doorbell startles him out of his thoughts and he considers not answering it, but after the third successive ring he groans and trudges through the living room.

Reid is there across the threshold when he pulls the door open. Luke gapes at him, says, “Hi!” a bit more enthusiastic than he really feels. His hands itch with the desire to reach for Reid.

Reid nods at him, but says nothing – just stands there on the porch looking weirdly intense and staring at Luke, eyes fliting up and down.

"I've been thinking..." Reid starts, but then shakes his head and grounds his jaw, and Luke doesn't really know what to do with that.

“Reid – ” Luke starts, and then Reid is kissing him.

It’s not particularly intense or longing or all the things that Luke has been, in all honestly, fantasizing about for days now. He’s had this idea that Reid would suddenly sit up and snap to attention as his mind was flooded with his missing memories from the last two years, and he’d realize that he’s been missing Luke and their relationship and their life and he’d go sprinting through town (because no one bothers to go to the trouble of getting in and out of a car in Luke’s overly romantic fantasies) like something out of a horribly cheesy movie that Reid would never admit to loving. And Reid would burst through the door to wherever he found Luke, and Luke would see that he’s remembered, and they’d embrace each other and they’d kiss like no one else ever has before.

And that’s not quite – or at all – what this kiss is.

But it’s more than Luke had hoped for this Christmas, and it’s perfect. Reid tastes familiar, feels like himself, kisses like he ever did, and Luke sort of wants to weep with it (but really doesn’t want to cry like this right now). Reid’s hands clutch at Luke’s face and Luke smiles into it.

Reid pulls back, and there’s still something missing there, which gives Luke pause. He quirks his eyebrows down a bit, question poised on his tongue, when Reid beats him to it.

“I don't really remember, but I think I’ve been wanting to kiss you for a long time,” Reid says, his eyes and his mouth and his face hinting at a smile, and Luke can’t stop his own smile in return. 

**-end-**


End file.
